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Saturday, 16 July 2011

‘Daddy is lost’, Ezza pipes up to Mitzi, ‘No, he’s just ‘out’’ Mitzi corrects her. Which is true-he had a business meeting, and it began at 4 pm, and is most likely to not finish till well after bed time…fancy that?! In fact, it was unavoidable ( it was being held in a pub, I think that was the unavoidable reason…;)). So Alex is out, and I want him home! I am a soppy sow, meant to write ‘cow’ actually, but ‘sow’ is maybe more befitting? And hate to go a night without my whole family tucked up in our nest. A am a big flappy chicken at heart-I ‘nest’ and can’t help myself but feel out of sorts when one is absent (although this has almost never happened with the kids, I have NO idea whatsoever what I will do when they all fly the nest-have more babies? Pleeeeaaaseeee Alex, pretty please…? Alex? Nope, he’s gone.

The old woman who lived in a shoe, so many children, she didn't know what to do...What's she doing with that big f*** off stick in her hand??

Now then, the boring sh*t I had to tackle, went a bit like this: set off, good start, wow, made it through the front door, into the car, AND out the front gates without killing any livestock! Result! I head off on my merry way, there are some documents to fill out with, and leave with the health insurance people over here. The office is 15 minutes from here. ONE HOUR AND FORTY FIVE MINUTES later, I give up all hope of ever even getting home now, I’d abandoned my mission due to roads changing position. Why the hell could they not just leave them where they were?? They had the most ridiculous signs up. I go down the normal road to the office, briefly noticing a sign with a little midget man digging a tiny molehill sized mound along the way someway, I get half way along the road to find it’s no longer there. It’s been raplaced by no, no little men digging mole hills , but a great big f**k off Mount Everest of a pile of earth…The French are mad. Here are literally billions of yellow jacketed dudes, doing the most insane jobs. It apparently takes 3 to turn one of those ‘stop’ ‘go’ signs. One yellow jacketed dude to hold and thus project and turn his giant lollipop accordingly, one dude to smoke a cigarette next to him watching the oncoming traffic, and the other to scratch his visible butt crack, wipe his nose with the back (at least) of his same hand. Observing the off-coming traffic,,,This is how we do it in France.

We had a GORGEOUS day Friday at the beach with friends watching a NIKE surf comp, there to support 3 guys we know, who got 11th, 6th and 5th places. Wicked! Nice work boys! It was a 'Cash for Tricks' one too, so I suggested to Alex I got out there and shook my booty about a bit or something, he reckoned I'd be institutionalised, not given money for those kind of tricks...Too bad, snobs.

So with all that behind me, I have my parents coming out on Saturday! Hooray! We have not seen them since last summer, and I am very excited, as are the kids, chickens, ducks, frog, cats and dog. Although my cat Weetabix has been missing for 5 days now, never has she ever been out longer than 2 nights, and I am worried and sad.

Hopefully she’ll be back tomorrow, cats will be cats…See you all tomorrow whatever (sorry),

Friday, 15 July 2011

We’ve had a bit of a rough deal, apart from Monday, weather wise. But to be honest it’s been no bad thing. As it is tax time of year in France, and as Alex is in the process of changing his ‘status’ in France, we are tackling the most mind blowingly, extraordinary missions impossible ever known to man, donkey or beast. So the poor long-enduring kids (although they get a snack pack with treats in, a lollipop, as that lasts sooooooo long, a little bottle of water (the novelty value of the little bottle, although it's been re-filled, works a treat), rice cakes, apples and if we’re gonna be out for AGES and AGES and AGES, not just ages, a big biscuit too. At the end of the rounds, I unleash the chickens, who I have been starving for the 3 hours we’ve been out, and they peck themselves to flappy heaven on rice cake crumbs. Nice. Economical hovering, the next trend…NO more Henry hoovers, get yourself a chook. Anyway, the snacks keep them orally amused. Verbally, we play ‘Who am I' I play it, and they act as my Freuds, psychoanalysing their mother, as I am still trying to find 'me'…Actually you give 3 clues, and the aim is to guess what the person/thing the person was thinking of. And when I can’t stand it any longer, we listen to the songs on the radio loudly, and I culture them in sh*t French music, because OMG, have you EVER heard any French pop music? By God and gibbons, it’s single nation handedly THE most awful b******s you have ever had inflicted on you. They must have used some of their very popular, always played, duets between 'torn, confused dude' and 'miserable, ‘oh but I can’t’' lady, as toture techniques during the war, and since... And I also, sporadically, get to educate them on the good stuff, Tina Turner, who has no idea what love has got to do with it (and you know what, compared to the French sh*t she is outstanding), Phil Colins, because Jesus knows him, U2, when are they ever going to find what they’re looking for? Poor sods, and Mika, who evidently squeezes his nuggets and goes for it with the high notes…And they take toys, pens and paper, so it could be worse. But I really do feel for them. Unfortunately all this boring bollocks does have to be done though.

Having said all this, tomorrow will be nice! Apparently, as so far, it looks like Autumn has hit in our garden, full of brown leaves falling off the trees, it’s madness. We have had hot days hither and thither but the temperature in general has been 10 degrees milder than this time last year. So with nice weather hitting, we’re doing some ‘boring stuff’, as the kids call it, in the morning, then hitting the beach the whole rest of the afternoon, and dad is on surfing lesson duties! What fun shall be had by all…I shall let you know how it goes no doubt…unless I am hospitalised in surfing attempts, yes, even I may brave it! If you can’t beat them (and I can’t beat my husband, I’ve tried with a big stick, he just grabs it and twists me round and round on the end of it till I drop off dizzy)…

Down at the bottom of our garden...

The kids were desperate to get to bed tonight. After the afternoon and surfing lessons with daddy and uncle Jamie, we got in at 6, we all quickly whipped up some chocolate cakes, and ate our tea, then they clean their teeth and run upstairs to bed…Yes there is a reason they are so keen-not because I have decided to get my lie ins by fashioning them beds made out of gingerbread and sweets, well, it’d amuse them for hours, surely…hey, maybe I am on to yet another good idea, brainwashing and edible kids beds. I’ll keep you posted…the reason is, because they are ‘camping’ tonight. It’s the holidays, and they like to all go ‘camping’ in Monty’s room, yes, I know, I actually let them too. Mattresses are squished together on the floor, no one is asleep, they are drinking milk and eating the cakes we made, then it’s a story by torch light, and camp fires out…

‘Daddy is lost’, Ezza pipes up to Mitzi....

You know what? I am going to do part 2 tomorrow...! I am to bore you no longer, letting you off early tonight, for good behaviour...

Wednesday, 13 July 2011

Putting the kids to bed at 9 pm tonight, after the 3 others I had been looking after for friends that are moving (too hard when there are kids in the equation, ‘why are you putting that in the box? I want to keep that out mummy, please’ endless requests like that, this and between kids getting out everything in the boxes you have boxed up and shut with a padlock (they tend to gnaw through metal bolts), out. Wanting to ‘keep it out’, makes the whole thing a mind ****…Feeling their pain, I offered to look after the kids for the day. They ate well, played well, no fights, no squeals (well, not from having done themselves a grave mischief at any rate, and that counts). So when Alex rings at 5 pm to ask ‘how’s it going?’ (he asks, safe and warm in his retreat-your absence, however, has been noted sweetheart…;)) I tell him it’s in fact, easier than 4. There were 2 brothers and Lola’s best mate, thus 4 girls. They all got on so well, that I got on and did my thing, and felt like I’d had the afternoon off! Well, afternoon free to spend washing clothes in the bath and wringing out by bare hand, then hanging out to drip dry (I’m not a Jedi, I lack the force necessary to ‘wring’ successfully…) . they left at 8.45, and I now have a silent house, at 9.30 pm…Not a bad day’s work done…now to mop the floors, and carry on my sagas tomorrow...

Alex took this picture of me this morning...

Well, I spoke too soon, Ezza was up till 10 pm…I have tried EVERYTHING…I now shall call upon professional help (for me). Oh well, we’ll try again tomorrow. There is always hope tomorrow….I was bent over double washing the colours today in the bath, and as I was scrubbing away with my raisin fingers, I was thinking this is all becoming really rather monotonous now, this hand washing your clothes in the bath malarkey. Well, honestly, I mean, what is the point? I’m not surprised we evolved in intelligence and washing machine parts to make washing machines, it was THE most historical natural route to go down. And having not mastered the art of wringing either, makes my cause a hopeless one. I’d have made a sh*t woman from the olden days…

Look what you can do these days!

Just before bed tonight, i.e. after bath time, and clean and pyjamad up, the kids hear an almighty outburst of rain, before I can throw myself at them in a rugby tackling midget’s pose, they are all out. Stripped off and finding the rain hilarious and dancing about. the ducks were near by and then Lola strolls out, trusty umbrella above her head, ever the sensible one…! I then plunge them in the sink on entry, to wash of dirt and rain (in case it’s acid, you know?) and re-jama them all. They are all fast asleep, at 9 pm, an early night by Esmie’s standards. Treats!

My other Dentist appointment went with out a hitch today. OK, you know me well enough that when I say ‘it went with out a hitch’ in my world means it occurred somehow, but noone ever knows how it was successfully achieved, if achieved at all. But in this instance it was. I showed up at 11 am today, to be met by the startled look, which I am often met with, but this time it is because this was the 3rd time I had got my appointment wrong and shown up at the wrong time. Yes I know, I know write it down. But number 1, fyi, my bag and my car and my children (and probably the chickens) eat my pens, AND any existing paper. I actually write lists on the tiles in my kitchen in a corner they can’t get to, that’s how desperate it is here! And I did, actually, write it down, but then it rained and the car has many leaks, and it was sodden. I was turned away like the fruit loop I am, and told to come back (a bit too slowly and deliberately and LOUDLY) at 3 pm. I then afterwards had several dropping in life threateningly vital ‘to be handed in exactly 30 seconds after receiving it’ paper works. I get in af ew hours later, catch a glimpse of myself to see a big line of dribble trailing down my for’ead. As if? I’d been waking round since leaving the dentist, which BTW, THANK YOU for telling me I had a little something on my face, it was a dribbly bit of the goo he used to make a mould of my next royal tooth-yes, another crown. Woooooa, scary stuff, I’m only 33!

If you know this film 'Something about Mary'...at least it was not what she had in her hair...EEEWWWWWW

Mitzi ate 3 portions of the lentil tomato stew I had done tonight, the mess round her plate was phenomenal, I have not as yet tackled my floors-I generally leave round one to the animals, round 2 to me, although I quite obviously do not squat on all fours, wag my arse in excitement and get licking…I mover and hop, yeah, right, as if I do that either, I hoover and mop, in the real world, that’s more sane, more OCD fulfilling. Thank you Mr Spooner…(wikipedia him here).

Tuesday, 12 July 2011

It was a hot evening, and the kids loved performing!! If you have 5 mins, then watch away...

Lola is the girl with the long blonde hair, black bandana on, who comes out near the end of the trail of kids...

When it breaks into song, it gets too fun! she is, when they are all dancing, top left of screen...And please note the song is 'doo da doo da day', which becomes, 'ohh la ooh la laa' in the well known French version...it does not get funnier than that!

Monday, 11 July 2011

As I am sat here, the dog is licking my leg, I kick out, and hear Alex say ‘Hey, what did u do that for??’ It was him in fact, affectionately stroking my leg!! Sorry babes, our marriage has got to this, has it? An affectionate leg stroke, and I think you’re the dog…Still, he’ll get over it!

My parents-in-law have been down for a few nights, they stay 6 months a year 5 hours north from us, and 6 in England. Sheep is still spilling out of the freezer, thanks to the Bus Driver’s generosity (and his best mate being a slaughterer (of animals, I may add)) we are still inundated with frozen sheep. So my M-in-law worked like a Trojan, whilst I flapped and faffed, and she cooked a roast for all the hungry mouths, I made some chick pea burgers for me, and when we ate, I was Billy no mates (poor Billy, always friendless, didn’t he even have one special one??) on the end of the table on the ‘extra’ chair from outside, bit lower than everyone else making mmmmmm slurpy noises, and the rest of the gang sneering at me and necking down meat like Henry the VIII th. But I well enjoyed mine, with a clear karma ;) … Yesterday I had to go and look at washing machines, well, to be fair, wouldn’t you? If you had been hand washing in the bath all your SIX people’s worth of get-up. I did initial research into mangles….Until I realised Enough, is ENOUGH! Especially as this is now 2 months on…I am a broken woman. An achy handed-as I reckon that’s what’s causing my hand pain, back ached up, broken woman and the fact I have permanent raisin fingers and smell pretty fresh, round the hand area, wouldn’t bother with the areas not soaked in wash powder too particularly. This is, after all the 21st century, is it not? Anyway, M-in-law came with, as did the waifs and strays, although the car was chickenless on entry, so that was a positive start. After the positive start, my M-in’law starts not looking quite so relaxed as the journey goes on, at one point I over take on a single white line, she points this out white knuckled, gripping on to the side of the seat, like I am doing 897 thousand mph, or something, and gasps this observation out at me. I point out I had actually forgotten that rule, so therefore it didn’t count…Any way, the trip was a vague success, and within a month or so, I should have a washing machine! YES!

This week, I have been ‘centering’ myself regular *dives into hasty explanation before she gets judged* All down to the fact summer has hit, and as ’the’ season here now in France, has hit, the world, his wife, various mistresses, kids, a 9 inch badger, a healthy donkey (yeah, lucky bastard, he has a donkey) some pygmy sheep and herds and herds of squirrels (you should see them), a shocking entourage really, well, they're all here. It's madness, the roads are chocca, and my blood has been close to boiling point all week. My road rage is threatening a 'comeback' (read here), so I am having to take myself in hand, hence the ‘centering’, you see, I am not weird at all… Well, when the kids, at non driving age (far from it) are commenting on others' driving skills, I realise, they have informed opinions on non use of indicators, over taking in not the right area of road, cutting up, in wrong lane....you begin to get the picture. I commentate, quite obviously, talking to yourself always comes back to bite you in the ass. They have all listened and learne. Here comes my new idea for training/mindwashing kids…They have evidently been listening to my ramblings so much, they have all learned to drive accurately, well verbally at least, and that’s important. So, what I propose is to record all the ru;es and things I want them to absorb, and instead of listening to my own voice, like a fooking broken record, I shall record it all, and have it on repeat in the car. This way, they SHALL listen and learn! Form the very, very wisest, coz mummy ALWAYS knows best. Shhhhhhhhhhhhh.

My gorgeous Lola as a pirate for the school end of year spectacle...

Before I leave (I’m going nowhere, that sounded way more dramatic than it needed to) I’ll say, when I stop typing, instead. The kids love their bedtime stories, they often ask me to make up a story. The ‘can you tell us a strory from your head’ request targets red alert, dread signals in my brain. A story out of MY head?? Well, OK….I am SO rubbish! I rip off fairy tales regularly, changing them up a bit. The stories I tell them often include a lovely village where the residents are lovely too, along comes a stranger to live there, all of a sudden, something keeps going missing, it was everyone’s ‘niceness’ the other day, and they were all being rude to each other and mean, 4 kids were unaffected, there names were, yep you guessed it, Monty, Lola, Mitzi and Esmie, they set off on an adventure to find out what’s going on-they find the culprit! A machine in the cellar of the new dude’s house, they manage to sneak in shut it off, and all is well, remarkably! So there we go. I am scarring my kids through story telling, but they insist almost every night I tell them one-I thought practice made perfick? Apparently not.

Sunday, 10 July 2011

This week, I am focusing on anger...As this week I have been PUSHED to my limits by, and get me saying this, by tourists!!! OK, by definition, I am kinda one, in that I am a foreigner living in France, but I am doing my best...Really I am! It's the season here, and I am overrun by tourists. MENTAL .TIME .OF. YEAR. HERE.

Anyway, my Thought for the Day is thus:

"There are two things a person should never be angry at, what they can help, and what they cannot."

Unfortunately, I have no idea who said this... They were obviously seriously wise though...

Tamsyn Wood & her husband Alex.

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Anyway...about me...

Alex, my husband of 10 years had a rugby accident over 2 years ago, leaving him blind and severely disabled. I have learned the hard way how precious life is and what truly matters. Love, light, healing, gratitude and blessings to all who read my blog xx